


Crossfire (give me some sugar, I'll give you my aid)

by Lexiee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Banter, Embedded Images, M/M, Romance, Texting, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 13:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9738011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexiee/pseuds/Lexiee
Summary: So it seems Stiles gets really, really turned on when Peter is demonstrating his supernatural strength......cue Peter showing it off a lot."Next thing he knows, Peter has the leader pushed against a tree, holding him up by the neck and shit, those muscles sure look delicious on his arms."Never took you one to get off on choking” Peter says then, sweetly, lightly, like it's a suggestion over breakfast croissants. Like he wouldn't mind to wrap his hands around Stiles' neck and fuck him merciless until he has to tap the man's arm three times, because he just simply cannot take it anymore.NOPE."





	

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY VALENTINES TO EVERYONE! ♥♥♥
> 
> Thought I should put some TW's out: Mentions of explicit sex, choking, mentions of canon level violence.  
> Should there be anything else, please let me know, and I'll make a note of it. Thank you!

 

 

 

 

The first time it happens they are dealing with gnomes - a whole bunch of them. Those are typically evil little shits that live underground and find pleasure in being real nasty.  
The clearing they're in looks like a scene out of a B-Category Horror, but somehow it still gives Stiles the chills - it's dark all around them because duh, of course, every supernatural shitstorm has to happen after dark.

Stiles is only there because he's snapping some subtle photos and taking mental notes all to place in their online Bestiary later on - and holy shit, he has never seen gnomes in real life and while they don't differ much from their pop culture appearance, their leader (huh, it looks like everyone has a freaking alpha nowadays) is surprisingly human looking. Tall, muscular, and if it weren't for the funny shoes or ears, Stiles would have thought that he's just a grumpy looking hipster guy with a weird, unkept beard.

Next thing he knows, Peter has the leader pushed against a tree, holding him up by the neck and _shit,_ those muscles sure look delicious on his arms.

It takes Stiles a minute to realise he's been drooling over himself, and unfortunately he was the last one to take notice – Derek is glaring at him (now, that's not a big surprise, sourwolf) and while Peter isn't looking at him, his smirk has become wider, more predatory. Stiles wonders why is that that he feels so much like a prey for someone who isn't even in the centre of attention.

The gnomes leave with Peter's promise in their pockets as in he will personally snap each of their necks if they so much as in step a toe into the Hale territory again and Stiles is glad he can finally go home – he had been humiliated enough for the day.  
No one said anything out loud about it, but the Hale eyebrows, man - they speak for themselves.

Just when he would think he can get away with it, Peter voice has him immobile - like honey would do to a fly.

"Never took you one to get off on choking” Peter says then, sweetly, lightly, like it's a suggestion over breakfast croissants. Like he wouldn't mind to wrap his hands around Stiles' neck and fuck him merciless until he has to tap the man's arm three times, because he just simply cannot take it anymore.

 

NO.  
Nope.  
Not going there.

Stiles is gaping at the man and tries to convince himself that the only reason he's not replying is because the one thing he could say would be considered as confirmation. Yeah. Or begging, but y'know. Whatever.

 

 

**SS/PH**

 

 

Not even a week later he has to stop by Peter's apartment to pick up some books for his emissary training. He probably won't pick them up though, but read them curled up in that soft armchair in the man's living room, but he can't really say that to Scott now, can he?

It's not the first time that he comes here, so as he pulls up in front of that ridiculously expensive complex, he heads straight to bay thirteen, and texts Peter that he's arrived. He could use the emergency key he has stolen from Peter's bedroom, but he doesn't want to bring it to the man's attention. It's more than likely that he already knows, but waiting for the right moment to rip into Stiles for stealing something do valuable from him anyway.

He won't mention that probably the only reason he has the key is because Peter wants him to, otherwise he wouldn't have found it so easily.

He's expecting Peter to knock on the car window to get his attention, so when the man opens the door and drags him out of the vehicle, he's understandably startled. Peter's standing way too close (and smells _soo_ nice), Stiles lands in his arms, and he's had a few dreams that started out just like this – all left him sweaty and his bedsheets sticky in the morning.

 

“Let me go, dude! Not cool!” Stiles complains, trying not to dwell too long on the look in Peter's eyes.  
“Park in the visitor bay, like a good boy, then I'll let you go” Peter proposes in a mildly threatening voice, the one he usually uses to help him get his way. Not enough to cause any real trouble, but certainly enough to intimidate others – not Stiles though. Stiles still wanted to climb onto his lap and---

“You don't even have a car! Why do you care?” Stiles argues vehemently, partly just to watch the vein appear on Peter's neck in his frustration. He wanted to suck on it (and on some other things, too).  
“Because it belongs to me. Just park in the visitor bay already!” Peter says with a growl, his arms tightening around Stiles.

“I won't move it now, man, I'm already parked! Let me pick up those books and I'll leave. In an out, fifteen minutes tops. Five, if you're shit to your guest and won't ask me to stay for a cup of coffee” He's trying to be reasonable here, honestly. He could ask Peter just to bring those books down for him, but he wants to read them there, in the man's space – and yeah, maybe he hopes that Peter will invite him for a drink, and then fuck him into the mattress, but no one has to know that. It's all fine, he has it under control, promise. _Pinky promise,_ even.

 

“Move it, or I will” Peter warns him then, and Stiles knows he's screwed as he watches Peter inhale his scent deeply, and the angry look on him shifts into something else.  
“I'd love to see you try” he says, because being sassy is the best he can do, and when he will recall this situation tonight in bed, just him, lube, and his right hand, he'd like to feel on top of the situation. He deserves that.

_(He'd rather be on top of Peter, bouncing on his cock, with his eyes closed and his mouth open, with Peter's fingers in it, and his tongue wrapped around them, but...)_

 

NO.  
Nope.  
Not going there.

Peter actually lifts the front of the car up, and HOLY SHIT, that must be the sexiest thing that ever happened in front of Stiles. He can't help it as pictures fill his mind about Peter holding him up and ruining him, in the shower, his living room, out in the park...

A filthy moan leaves his lips before he can even process it, and he's out of the man's arms muttering about moving the car, but as soon as the door closes, his foot is on the pedal and he's out of the whole car park.

If he learnt something from Harry Potter, is that when there's a vicious supernatural creature on the loose, face it, but when it comes to love, run like the coward you are.

 

Wait, love?  
What now?!

 

 

**SS/PH**

 

 

He's not ashamed to admit (yes, he is) that he spends the next three days in his room, shooting everyone down with the excuse that he's spending some quality time together with his dad, and they'll hang out later. So far he's turned down Scott, Lydia, Scott, Erica, Scott, and Scott.

It still blows his mind how long they've come since high school – Scott balances his love life and his pack and still ~~wants to~~ has time to hang out with him. Amazing.

What's not so amazing, is that he's already cleaned the whole house – twice, has made a meal plan for his dad – for the next three months, checked the new online Bestiary notes for typos and bugs. Of course, when you need (so, so desperately) your server to die on you, it's all up and running with the strict security in place. Not like he expected something else, it was his and Danny's work, a real piece of art, but still, a guy can hope, right?

He'd be content to ignore his feelings and the world for the rest of the year, but Beacon Hills waits for no man, it doesn't stop, so he's not exactly surprised when he gets a text from Peter.

 

 

He's already typing an answer to tell the man where to stick it, when his phone buzzes again. Figures.

 

 

Two minutes? Does he have time to send Peter a bunch of poo emojis? Probably not – he does it anyway.

 

He's sorta expecting Peter to show up with Derek's SUV, but there's a brand new looking black 4x4 in front of his house (and Mrs. Rogers, his nosy neighbour is already watching them through her window. She's totally going to tell his dad all about it later). Great. Just what he needed. He shoots a quick text to his dad, saying that he's out with Derek, and he hopes that Mrs. Rogers can't see too well from big distances.

He hops in the car with a smooth (yeah, right) move, just to have Peter start the car, and as soon as they're on the move, the man drives like the maniac he is.

Stiles tries to stay quiet, he swears, but it's a bit hard, especially when the tension is almost enough to make him choke on his own saliva.  
“So... sweet ride” he says, and prays to a higher power to help him shut his mouth now. He doesn't need an argument. They should be discussing the threat they need to face, and not this thing between them they've been ignoring for months on end now.

“Thought I'd take advantage of that lovely parking space I have” comes the answer and _wow,_ thanks, that's not gonna help him shut his mouth. Like at all.

“Nice move. Petty. I like it” he offers with a huge grin on his face, shoves aside all of his common sense and self-preservation. For fun.  
“You might want to shut your mouth before I put something in it” _oh. That._ He looks at the man, looks at his lips, at the grin they're forming and looks at his firm, angry grip on the steering wheel---

“I don't actually think you could fist my mouth, but you know I'm always up for a challenge”  
“Personally, I'd strongly suggest that you shut it instead” Peter declares firmly, with his eyes on the road, and _of course_ he's not looking at him, because why would he?

 

He couldn't make it any clearer that he doesn't want Stiles, and why would he?  
Why would he?

 

Peter is amazing, a survivor, a brilliant mind, been to hell several times, both literally and metaphorically, and came back every time.  
Stiles has nothing to offer here.

 

He does shut his mouth.

He also gets out of the car as soon as it stops and runs straight into the crossfire, into the fight. He joins his pack, his friends, with nothing to fend for himself, just his old pocket knife and a half-empty lighter. He doesn't even know what they're facing, they didn't talk about it in the car, but he knows he'd rather face Satan himself than Peter right now.

They're still in Beacon Hills, in one of the old parts where the houses are not suitable to live in, so no one really goes there nowadays. He's seen a Scooby Doo episode with a mansion just like this one, and he remembers Scotty holding his hand through it, because they were both so scared (not like they admitted it out loud, or anything).

The sounds of fighting reach him, and he braces himself for an attack when Derek shouts at him.

“It's an illusionist, Stiles! We find him and it all stops!” _Find him._ Easy enough. There most be a clue, a sign the others have missed, they didn't ask him here for nothing, he was good in this sort of things. The heavy fog around them makes it hard to see, but as he looks around, he sees a faint blue light through the window on the house near them – so Stiles runs.

“Gotcha” he grins as he steps inside, knowing that the others will follow him soon enough.

 

The door closes behind him, and there's nothing but him and the darkness. He knows, there's nothing there but him. _He knows._ The silhouette was upstairs and no one has come down, couldn't have come down without him noticing.

So if he knows that there's nothing there but him, then why does he see a hundred pairs of glowing blue eyes? All looking at him, so angry and the bad kind of hungry.

It cannot be real.

 

Wait.

He came in in a door, and he saw the light through a window, so there must be a way out, right? He cannot be stuck.

 

He is stuck.  
He can't escape, there's nowhere to go.

“You failed me, Stiles” his dad says, voice like venom. Stiles can't see him, but the sound is loud and clear in his ears. “You failed me and now I'm going to die. Peter's going to die too – maybe if you've had been honest with us, we wouldn't have to die now, but no. You just had to lie. Why do you always have to lie?”

“I'm sorry dad, I'm sorry” There are emotions inside him that doesn't feel like his own, anger, so much anger. He tries to hold onto the feelings he's sure of, the unconditional love he has for his father, and the burning desire, the flame he feels for Peter. “I love you dad, I love you both so much” he weeps as the whole building seems to shake with something.

 

Suddenly, a loud bang cuts through the nightmare, there's dust everywhere, and his muscles tighten with anticipation. He fights for air, his lungs feel full, his throat dry, and his eyes are wet with tears he can't remember shedding.

Surrounded by broken pieces of the brick wall he just punched through, there's Peter standing there, with a certain kind of determination in his glowing blue eyes just to get to him, to Stiles.  
That's his man there, Stiles thinks, only to realise, that no, Peter isn't his, not by long shot. It's still nice to know that he cares enough to come rescue him like the damsel in distress he swears he isn't, and after, when he'll be able to properly appreciate the image of Peter punching through that thick brick wall, he will be very grateful for the image, and probably a bit too turned on to function.

He wants to open his mouth to say something, maybe to thank Peter, but it all doesn't matter at the end, as Peter steps in close and kisses him senseless.

“I know, I heard” Peter murmurs into their kiss, and Stiles' hands find their way up to his sleeve so he can curl his fingers around the man's biceps. “And I'm not letting you go again”

 

**Author's Note:**

> My low self-esteem runs on kudos and comments, please leave me some if you have a minute.  
> Also visit me on my [tumblr](http://sheflieswithherowndamnwings.tumblr.com/), we can hang out, be friends, and you could always give me prompts - they are open NOW!


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